


Pulling His Pigtails

by soraflye (flitterfly5)



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 05:07:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10550564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flitterfly5/pseuds/soraflye
Summary: Nino gets called to the principal's office and has to apologize to the boy he's accused of bullying.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is fiction.
> 
> Posted to LJ a long time ago.

This was bad, and Nino knew it. Sakurai-sensei was just about the most gullible teacher in the _entire_ Pikanchi Elementary School, and now even _his_ face looked like some ripe old tomato on the verge of bursting.

 

"Go in," he said tersely, his hand firmly steering Nino towards the formidable principal's door.

 

_It's okay,_ Nino thought to himself. _Matsumoto-sensei can't be THAT scary. Toma-kun says he has a *thing* for Sakurai-sensei, after all. And I'm Sakurai-sensei's student. That makes me automatically safe, right? And besides... it's not like I meant to do any real harm..._

 

Shifting his small feet sheepishly, the boy glanced up and tried to flash his homeroom teacher a winsome smile, only to be met with an emphatic nudge through the doorway.

 

"Don't try that puppy smile on me, Ninomiya," snapped Sakurai. "It works well enough with your creative excuses for missing homework, but what you've done this time is out of my hands!"

 

Nino stumbled into the room, the little smirk wiped off his face completely as he heard the immediate shuffle of people hastening to rise and bow at him and his sensei's entrance.

 

" _Kaachan_?!?" The dainty mole on his chin was stretched tight as his entire jaw dropped in shock. "What are you doing here?"

 

He looked around to where the principal was eyeing him sternly from behind a large mahogany desk.

 

"Matsumoto-sensei!" He stomped his way over until he was almost nose to nose with that pretentiously decorated name plaque on Matsumoto's desk. "Why did you call my Kaachan?! You can't do that! It's not fair! You're supposed to talk to me _first_ ; Sakurai-sensei always gives me a chance to explain myself first-"

 

"Quiet, Kazu!"

 

Nino didn't need to see the icy look on his mother's face to know that he could kiss his new Nintendo Wii goodbye for...oh... just about the rest of his life, probably. With a none-too gentle yank, the woman pulled her son away from the principal, bowing apologetically several times.

 

"I'm very sorry for my son's atrocious behavior, Matsumoto-sensei. It's all my fault, for not being strict enough with him at home; he's always been a little wayward, I'm afraid... of course we'll apologize and do anything we can to make it up to the Aiba's and their poor son..."

 

"WHAT?!" Nino spluttered in a frenzy of panic. "No! I can't apologize to Aiba! And you can't make me! None of you can make me! I won't do it! I won't!!"

 

The three adults looked scandalized. Furiously, Nino flung aside the hand his mother had gripping his shoulder and ran for the door, pushing past a bewildered Sakurai-sensei  in the process. Behind him, he heard Matsumoto-sensei heave a wearisome sigh.

 

"I'm getting out of here!" the boy cried, his short fingers already curling around the polished brass doorknob. His mother covered her mouth with a gasp of despair, so he glared at her. "I don't _care_ if I'm grounded for life!"

 

He wrenched the door open, a few rather age-inappropriate swear words dancing on the edge of his tongue as he prepared to bolt out of his detention.

 

But someone was blocking the doorway.

 

And Nino almost fainted with dread when that _someone's_ chocolate doe eyes met his shyly.

 

_He's smiling._ Nino's thoughts blundered around his mind as the soft eyes closed in, bringing with it that magical aura that always drove his little head _crazy_.

  
_Stupid, stupid! Why does this baka have to always be smiling?_

 

"Kazunari." Aiba's face was still beaming obliviously. Nino took a step back into the room, hating how he could already feel the heat dissipating from his own cheeks at the sweet way the other boy said his name.

 

"Shut up, Aiba!" he shouted, desperate to mask the quickening thump-thump in his narrow chest. "And don't ever call me that again! It's not like we're friends or anything."

 

Aiba looked crestfallen, his shaggy hair drooping over those big doe eyes as his thin frame sagged into a sad, sad, arc. With a guilty twinge of his conscience, Nino noticed the other boy's long fingers beginning to pinch and squeeze at the hem of his tattered shirt. For some reason, that pathetic look only made him madder.

 

"I-I only held your hand the first day because sensei told me to!" he spat cruelly, feeling a wrenching satisfaction as Aiba's eyes, which had been gazing at him steadily, now blinked their way to the floor.

 

Of course, that was a lie. Nino had spent most of that first morning calculating where he should stand in order for Sakurai-sensei to pair him up with this cute new kid who had squatted near the hopskotch squares all recess, trying to flip an overturned beetle back onto its legs. Aiba was just so _clueless_ ; he didn't even notice that Nino had walked by and stolen the basketball he had checked out from the gym. Nino had been fascinated. He tried dribbling the purloined basketball (loudly) in a space just out the corner of Aiba's eyes; Aiba only cupped a protective hand around the beetle and turned slightly so that his back was to Nino. So Nino straight up _threw_ the ball against the wall Aiba was crouched by, letting it bounce as close to the taller boy as he could. _That_ got his attention, all right. But while Nino had been expecting a yell, a glare or even just a sigh of exasperation, all the reaction he got was an imploring look and a quiet "Sorry, Beetle-chan is scared of basketballs." Nino had slunk away sulkily that day, Aiba's basketball tucked under his arm and Aiba's soft voice tunneling through his little brain like an insistent worm.

 

Well, later that day, as per Nino's careful plotting, Sakurai-sensei paired them up for Story Time, and had them act out the roles of some silly boys in some silly friendship fable. Nino still rolled his eyes at the memory of it, but couldn't suppress an idiotic smile when he thought of the sensation Aiba's soft hand had left on his own. Sometimes, he would even find himself stroking his palm absent-mindedly, as if trying to find again that Aiba-imprint on his pudgy hamburger hand and the dazzling toothy grin that came with it. But of course, he would rather let his Mario die a hundred times on his Wii before he let Aiba find out about _that_.

 

"You must be Ninomiya-kun."

 

Startled, the boy looked up to find a tall, Aiba-looking man staring down at him.

 

"Aiba-san!" Both Sakurai and Matsumoto-sensei rushed forth and bowed low in greeting. "We are terribly sorry about what happened. We'll do everything in our power to-"

 

"Please, "Aiba-san inclined his head slightly to acknowledge (and silence) the teachers, his attention never leaving Nino's face. "I'm talking to this young boy here." He put a protective hand on his son's dejected shoulder and continued to stare piercingly at Nino's fidgeting little figure.

 

"Ninomiya-kun, please tell me why you pushed my Masaki into the sandpit yesterday."

 

Nino couldn't meet the man's eyes. "I-I was just playing with him," he stuttered.

 

"Oh, so this was a game to you, was it?" Aiba-san's lips tightened into a white line. "Did you know about all those big colorful caterpillars scurrying around the sandpit, then? Was that also part of the game?"

 

The man's voice was quiet, but Nino knew better than to mistake that for leniency. Truth was, he _did_ know about the caterpillars; it was his surefire plan to get Aiba's attention, and to drag him away from that daft little Ohno-kun that he seemed to be hanging out with _way_ too much these days. The caterpillars were so pretty, in a colorfully slimy sort of way, and Nino had uncharacteristically spent much of his time outdoors trying to find the brightest ones to impress Aiba with...

 

"I didn't know they were poisonous," he mumbled, bracing himself for the tirade that was sure to come. Behind him, he could hear his mother's breaths quicken. _Yeah... I can kiss my allowance for the next  few years goodbye, too..._

 

"And yet according to the other boys, you knew to wear gloves while placing them there." Aiba-san's voice was ice cold now; he looked over Nino's shoulder to glare at his mother. "Forgive me, Ninomiya-san, but your son seems to harbor some rather malicious intentions towards my Masaki." He turned to Matsumoto-sensei decisively. "I want Masaki switched to a different class, a different homeroom. And I don't want _this boy_ to be allowed near him anymore, either."

 

"NO!" Two boyish voices cried out at once.

 

A stunned silence followed, all eyes fixed on the little sliver of space that was now occupied by a speechless Nino with a desperately clingy Aiba Masaki wrapped around him like an octopus.

 

"What are you doing?" hissed the younger boy, trying (but only half-heartedly) to remove Aiba's arm from around his neck. "Idiot!" he muttered when he realized how hard he was blushing.

 

"Nino-chan only wore gloves because he hates bugs and doesn't like touching them!" Aiba said defiantly, pulling Nino a little bit closer to his scrawny chest.

 

_How did he know...?_ Nino whimpered, feeling his face brush against the lumps of irritated skin beneath Aiba's thin shirt. _Well_ , he thought as he gave up struggling and buried his face into the grassy smell of Aiba, _it looks like I finally got his attention._ Something in his small, friendless heart was blossoming.

 

"He only wanted me to admire them, because they were pretty little caterpillars, weren't they?" Aiba was grinning down at Nino's face like a silly flop-eared puppy. "He thought it'd be a nice present for me, right, Nino-chan?"

 

Mutely, Nino nodded, his agile mind whirring with the implications of Aiba's words. _He doesn't want to be separated from me. That means he likes having me close. That means he likes what I've been doing to him. That means he likes ME._ With sudden relief, Nino let out a breath and smirked secretly. _Which also means I can now do this._ He snaked his sweaty hand behind himself, into Aiba's warm palm, and squeezed hard, feeling again the soft imprint of hand-on-hand. Boldly, his eyes made a sweep beneath his lashes to survey the senior Aiba's stern face.

 

"Let _go_ of him, Masaki," his father snapped, tugging at Nino's newfound sweetheart irritably. "Don't you remember all those times he bullied you? Last month, you were almost in tears because he pulled your hair and kept calling you 'baka' for wanting to be Mirror Man for Hallowe'en."

 

"That..." Aiba flushed, but clung on to Nino. "I got over that."

 

"And what about the time when he threw a baseball into your lunch bento? You've been eating lunch alone in a hidden corner ever since. Don't think I don't know about these things!"

 

"I-I..." Aiba threw a pitiful, imploring look to Nino. "I like baseballs," he finished weakly to his father.

 

"Hmph!" Aiba Sr. was unimpressed. "Hair-pulling, shoving, name-calling, dangerous prank-pulling... and god knows what else he's been up to! This boy is not fit company for my son." He turned once more to Matsumoto-sensei, puffing out his chest in a business-like way.

 

But suddenly, a small voice piped up.

 

"Please, Aiba-san!"

 

Nino was still holding Aiba's hand. He knew he probably shouldn't, not in front of Aiba's father at least, but he couldn't bring himself to let go. So he stood there, staring up at the intimidating Papa Aiba, with one hamburger hand trembling like a leaf in Masaki's tight palm.

 

"I'm very sorry for all the naughty things I did to Aiba-kun," he said sincerely. "And for all the mean things I said, too. But I didn't mean any harm, I promise!" He clasped Aiba's hand tighter so that both their fingers turned white.

 

"I only wanted him to notice me," he said to the patriarchal figure above him.

 

Aiba-san quirked a brow skeptically while the three other adults in the room all sighed adoringly. Matsumoto and Sakurai even exchanged a not-so-secret look that said quite clearly: _let's make a son like this tonight_. Nino's mother was smiling slightly, giving the boy a sliver of hope that he might not be as grounded as he had thought, after all.

 

"I pulled his hair and called him names and took his things because he never looked at me. And I wanted him to look at me." Nino couldn't believe he was actually admitting this, but somehow, having Aiba's warm hand around his own made it a lot easier. "But he only paid attention to beetles and bugs and that stupid Ohno-kun who doesn't do anything but draw pictures on his napkins all day long!"

 

"Kazu!" his mother said warningly.

 

"Oh right," Nino grinned sheepishly and peered up at Aiba-san once more. "I didn't mean to name-call again. Ohno-kun is actually a very nice boy." To his wonder, the edges of Aiba-san's lips seemed to rise in a semi-smile. Encouraged, he went on, "What I mean to say is, Aiba-san, I like Masaki. You know, in a _like_ -like way."

 

Nino stepped forward, pulling Aiba along with him to stand before the looming Aiba Sr. Smiling cheekily, the younger boy raised their joined hands before the man.

 

"And I think Masaki likes me, too."

 

Nino thought his little heart was going to burst into a flock of pigeons and fly straight out his chest when he turned his head to find a red-as-a-beet Aiba shuffling his long legs awkwardly and trying hard not to look at his father. (In the back, somehow, Matsumoto and Sakurai were now seated next to each other, a hand on each other's thigh and watching the scene with hearts in their eyes.)

 

"Is this true, Masaki?" Aiba-san's voice was definitely more amused than stern now. "Do you like Ninomiya-kun?"

 

"Yes," Aiba whispered voicelessly. "Please, Papa, don't make me switch classes!"

 

And the next moment, the tall boy's face was filled with nothing but pure astonishment as his father erupted into a deep booming laugh, patting the boys' joined hands jovially and putting an arm around both their shoulders.

 

"Hahahaha! Well so be it, then! Matsumoto-sensei, Sakurai-sensei, Ninomiya-san, I apologize for the ruckus I made about Ninomiya-kun here." Aiba-san squeezed Nino's shoulder affectionately. "Masaki can keep his place in Sakurai-sensei's class. Please take care of him, sensei."

 

Sakurai-sensei nodded, smiling. "I will, Aiba-san. Don't worry."

 

Aiba-san then turned Nino's small frame towards him solemnly. "And you, Ninomiya-kun. If you want to earn my approval, then you'll have to do a good job of looking after my Masaki when he's at school from now on, okay? No more dangerous bugs or throwing baseballs at him, promise?"

 

"Promise!" Nino beamed. Aiba nudged him.

 

"What's 'approval' mean?" he whispered loudly.

 

Nino gave him a playful smack to the head. "Permission, silly. Like a permission slip."

 

"Oh," Aiba still seemed half-confused. "For what? Is there a field trip coming up?"

 

"No!" Nino groaned. Aiba could be _such_ an idiot at times. "It's permission for me to be your _boyfriend_! Duh!"

 

Both their parents' jaws dropped a mile. Matsumoto-sensei held a handkerchief to his nose and pretended to sneeze, but everyone could hear the titters that came out instead. Sakurai-sensei was most definitely smirking.

 

Aiba's doe eyes shone as he grabbed both of Nino's hands in his own. "You mean like boyfriends that eventually get married and have kids?"

 

Behind them, his father looked like he was about to have a coronary. Matsumoto-sensei shot him a wry look that said: _don't worry, macho-man, your son is **clearly** the seme in this relationship._

 

On the other side of the room, Nino's mother looked so pale she could've been on the verge of fainting. Sakurai-sensei promptly gave her a crafty wink that said: _don't worry, 'baasan, you're still going to get lots and lots of grandchildren._

 

And in the middle of all this, in the sight of all present, Nino stood up on his tippy-toes and met Aiba's soft lips with his own in a chaste, innocent kiss.

 

"Yes, Aiba, exactly like that."

 

Aiba just giggled. As usual.

 

And held his hand tighter.

 

  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

//End


End file.
